


Wildfire Gossip

by RinHaruismyOTP



Series: Unconnected Merthur Works [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Gossip, Hand Jobs, M/M, Rumours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 03:05:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6498298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RinHaruismyOTP/pseuds/RinHaruismyOTP
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin finds himself somewhat uneasy when both right at the centre of the castle's gossip and completely unaware as to why.<br/>But it's definitely got something to do with Arthur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wildfire Gossip

Gossip from the castle spreads like wildfire in Camelot, in fact, possibly faster. Members of the court do, or say, something snobbish or unusual or downright scandalous and it’s quickly picked up by servants who giggle about it so others servants in the castle and then, upon returning to their homes in the town that night, spread it to their families, friends, the merchants, who tell it to _their_ friends and families, and the merchants take such gossip away to the other towns they visit. And suffice to say there’s always _something_ to talk about, being in a kingdom like Camelot where there are numerous attacks, magical or otherwise, every month, where there is more nobility than seems healthy and where, perhaps most importantly, there is a _very_ handsome an _very_ single king on the throne.

Or so people tell Merlin. Merlin, of course, would never notice such a thing about Arthur. Instead he’d notice his general prattishness and superiority complex, certainly not the definition of his biceps, the luxurious tan to his skin, the way said skin glistens when he steps out of a lake nude on a sunny day after they’ve been travelling for hours and stopped for rest…

Certainly not any of that.

But whatever Merlin’s opinion on Arthur, the fact of the matter is, gossip is hardly rare in Camelot, and especially not in the castle. So when Merlin hears giggling and whispering coming from the maids and serving boys he passes on the way to the kitchens to get Arthur’s breakfast, he thinks little of it. It follows him up to Arthur’s chambers, where he finds the king in a particularly grumpy mood, never meeting his eyes and grunting out an impossible list of orders, and then chases him through to Gaius’s. By this point, Merlin’s started to figure out something’s different. Gossip, while common, is never so… _constant_. It’s as if…

“Gwen, please tell me I’m not the subject of some strange rumour that paints me in a very bad light,” he says as he catches up to her along the corridor to the armoury, having run away from his duties the moment he realised it was likely the entire castle – and hence the entirety of Camelot in not so long – was talking about him. Gwen stops, and turns to face him, and Merlin’s stomach sinks as he realises she’s holding in laughter. Merlin groans. “Oh god, what have I done?” he asks, resigned, placing his hands on Gwen’s shoulders and looking her in the eye. Gwen laughs and pushes him off.

“Dear god, Merlin, stop giving me those eyes.” Amusement shines from her expression. “And for once, it seems as though it wasn’t _you_ , it just… involves you. Sort of.”

“Sort of? _Gwen_ , come on. Tell me please?” he begs. Gwen sighs.

“To be honest with you Merlin, I don’t think I’d feel all that comfortable discussing it.” She coughs as if embarrassed. “You, er, you should talk to Arthur about… it.”

“Arthur?” Merlin repeats, surprised. “He’s involved?”

Gwen coughs again, her cheeks colouring prettily. “Erm, yes, I’d say so. Very, um, involved.”

Merlin stares at her. “You’re acting very strangely, you realise that?” he tells her, and she grins.

“Yes, Merlin, I know. Now, I must go, Sir Leon was asking for his crossbow,” she says, quickly hurrying away towards the armoury.

Merlin stands watching the hallway she disappeared down for a good while longer.

***

Merlin enters Arthur’s chambers a little while later and is greeted by the sight of Arthur stretching, having spent the morning attempting to write a speech without Merlin’s help. A quick glance at the parchment of Arthur’s desk would show there’s been little success, however Merlin’s gaze is a little preoccupied by his king’s arse, stuck up in the air as he reaches own to touch his toes. Merlin feels his throat drying a little and heat comes to his cheeks, and after what is far too long to dismiss as merely a friendly appraisal of another man’s assets he tears his eyes away and looks anywhere but at his master, clearing his throat to gain his attention. Arthur starts, whipping around with surprise, blue eyes wide. Seeing Merlin, he visibly relaxes and rolls his eyes.

“ _Mer_ lin,” he says, sounding in a better mood than earlier if the tired-but-teasing ‘I am far above you’ tone is anything to go by. “We’ve been through this. When you get to a door, especially one to someone’s _private_ quarters, you _knock_. Now, I know it may seem like a hard concept for you to grasp, but really, with a little practice I’m sure you’ll manage it,” he says, in what Merlin considers his second most condescending tone, only a notch below his tone reserved only for his regular lectures on how to put shoes on correctly. Merlin does, in fact, know how to put shoes on, but it’s generally worth Arthur’s lectures to see how his jaw twitches in irritation when he purposefully gets it wrong.

Now, Merlin just grins and runs a hand through his hair a little self-consciously. “Pft, it’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before. There’s hardly anything I could walk in on I haven’t seen before.” He says the words without thinking, and immediately regrets it when images of just what he hadn’t seen Arthur doing come to mind, of him spread out on the bed, alone or with another, Arthur’s body writhing and wriggling as he…

And suddenly Merlin’s feeling inordinately hot and bothered. He blushes and looks away from Arthur, hoping he won’t notice, but notices as he does so that Arthur’s face is also looking a little flushed.

“Did you finish with my armour? Arthur asks after a short but pregnant pause. Merlin winces as he remembers the breastplate he’d been scrubbing magically in his room and had abandoned for chasing up rumours.

“Ah, not just yet, sire.”

“Then why are you here?” he asks and Merlin sighs, glad they’re back on subject.

“Ah yes, I wanted to ask you about some rumours…” he starts, and doesn’t miss Arthur freezing up.

“Rumours?” he questions quietly, and Merlin nods.

“Yes. Only, I’m pretty sure they’re somewhat about me, and Gwen said you were the person to ask about them.”

Arthur unfreezes, makes his way back to his desk and sits, picking up the parchment. “I wouldn’t know about servant gossip, Merlin,” he says haughtily. Merlin raises an eyebrow despite Arthur being unable to see him. The dismissal was clear, but it isn’t exactly new to Merlin to be disobeying Arthur’s orders.

“Gwen was quite adamant you’d know…”

Arthur mutters under his breath something Merlin can’t hear before glancing over at his manservant. “She was wrong. Stop paying attention to gossip and go do your chores.”

Merlin sighs and leaves.

***

“Gwen, _please_ tell me.”

“No, Merlin.”

***

Merlin spends a good chunk of the rest of the day scrounging for morsels of information about the rumour. He’s tried Gwen numerous times, tried eavesdropping on some maids (who, unfortunately, seemed to be on high alert for such eavesdroppers) and even at one point tried to nudge George into revealing it. That had been… a trying conversation.

Merlin: So George, must be hard doing your, uh, best work with everyone gossiping the whole time. You know what’s eating them this time?

George (staring dreamily at the silver): Just look at the _shine,_ Merlin.

He gave up pretty quickly.

Later on, however, Merlin bumps into Gwaine.

***

About an hour after Merlin’s conversation with Gwaine, he finds himself pacing up and down in front of Arthur’s door. Part of him wonders whether it would be funny for him to walk in without knocking again, considering the nature of the rumours circulating the castle, but a bigger part of him is suddenly scared stiff of walking in on something… indecent. And to be honest, a Very Important Part of Merlin’s anatomy is also stiff at the thought, but Merlin pushes that down. Figuratively. And then thinks about Gaius’ book on boils to push it down literally.

He’s rather timid in knocking on the door, anticipation twisting in his stomach. The “enter” comes almost immediately and Merlin swallows, collecting himself before he follows the command, shutting the door closed behind him.

“ _Mer_ lin,” Arthur says as he sees who it is. “You’re late. Come and get me undressed.” Merlin gulps at that, suddenly finding the order a lot less innocent than it has been before.

“Yes sire,” he says, an Arthur starts babbling about politics, which, to be honest, is not something Merlin is all that keen on. He mainly zones him out, which is okay as Arthur seems to expect no input from him as he rattles on.

By the time Arthur is naked, Merlin is a mess. His heart is thumping hard in his chest and his fingers are sweaty, which he prays Arthur doesn’t notice. He’s about to reach over to grab Arthur’s night clothes when Arthur turns to face him, and all of a sudden Arthur’s face is right in front of his and his _lips_ and in a moment of madness Merlin finds himself pressing his own to Arthur’s.

It’s soft – far softer than Merlin was expecting. He pushes carefully with his lips, trying to evoke some kind of reaction, though desperately not trying to think of what a huge mistake he might be making and how this could ruin their friendship _forever_ and-

Arthur kisses back. Merlin moans, a mixture of relief and desire and their mouths open and tongues intertwine in a dance that gets faster and deeper by the second until they are battling in a frenzy, eager for more. When they finally stop for air, Merlin can’t stop himself. “So, uh, a maid caught you pleasuring yourself?” he asks, flashing a grin, and Arthur slaps him over the side of the head.

“Shut up Merlin,” he grumbles, cheeks flushed.

“And she uh, heard you call out my name as you finished?” he pushes, delighted at the way Arthur becomes flustered.

“Who- who told you?” Arthur stutters, and Merlin laughs.

“Gwaine, of course. Who else?” He leans down to Arthur’s ear. “Do you think I could make you call out my name now?” he whispers, and has to hold back the laugh at the shiver that runs through Arthur’s _wow very naked_ body, instead a smirk rising onto his face. Arthur just nods, and it’s bizarre to think how not weird it feels for Merlin to be taking charge. He pushes his king against the wall gently, presses a gentle kiss to his lips, then trails similar kisses down the taut muscles of his chest, then further down, until he reaches his thighs, very aware of the erection, thick and long, that nudges at his cheek. He purposefully avoids it, ignoring yet revelling in Arthur’s out of character whines and pathetically weak orders to “Just suck my cock, goddammit Merlin,” whilst he lays butterfly kisses all around the base.

Once he’s satisfied Arthur’s desperate enough, he licks quickly up the underside of his erection so that Arthur gasps out, fingers tangling in Merlin’s hair with the faintest of tugs. Merlin smiles and looks up at the man he’s been insanely wanting for far too long, been insanely in love with for even longer. Arthur easily meets his gaze, looking out of breath a flushed like he’s been running a marathon. “Merlin,” he whispers, voice filled with want, and Merlin doesn’t waste any more time in swallowing down his cock.

It’s not the first blow job he’s given, and it’s not hard for him to adjust to the size of Arthur’s cock, bobbing his head back and forth to push himself further down it each time. His hand wraps around the base, and Merlin revels in the desire he both feels himself and can feel from Arthur in every one of his groans and tugs of Merlin’s hair. When he comes, Merlin swallows as much as he can and wipes the rest away from his mouth before reaching down into his own breeches to wrap the come stained hand around his own throbbing cock, previously ignored. As Arthur recovers above him, Merlin fists his erection, closing his eyes so that when Arthur’s hands pull his breeches down to his knees and one joins his own on the length, he jumps a little in surprise before groaning and coming into their hands.

Arthur’s lips meet his, and he is pulled over towards the bed, where they both collapse. “Merlin,” Arthur breathes, and then the sound of panting is the only sound. Soon after Merlin falls asleep, Arthur’s arm laid over his waist.

When he next opens his eyes, the sun is screaming through the windows (a by-product of being distracted from his duties the previous nights – he hadn’t shut the curtains) and Arthur’s presence is instantly obvious in the warm heat pressed up against his back. He turns over to face him to find him awake, staring at him with, unless Merlin is very much mistaken, the same emotion he himself feels for his king.

“Good morning,” Arthur murmurs, and Merlin smiles.

“Morning,” he whispers, sealing Arthur’s lips in a kiss that rapidly escalates. Merlin’s state of undress just about matches Arthur’s by the time the doors are flung open and a serving girl – Mary, if Merlin’s not mistaken – enters the quarters, taking one look at the two of them before turning on her heel and fleeing.

Merlin sighs and drops his head onto Arthur’s shoulder. The gossip will never stop.

And he’s sure it’ll spread far.

**Author's Note:**

> Woop that was fun. Hope you enjoyed it, it's my first work for this fandom :) Kudos and comments are much appreciated!! xx


End file.
